Story Blog: Forgotten, Part Two

Continued from Part One

His uncle left him on the couch-bed in a private bedchamber. He flung himself down and tried to pray, but his tortured thoughts kept swirling back around the same vicious past.

Later, a knock on the door startled him. He instinctively looked up in the direction of the sound and snorted in frustration at the maddening darkness that greeted him.

His uncle asked, “Josiah? Are you well?”

“Well? I’ve been blinded and you ask me if I’m well!”

The old man sighed. “I’ll take that as a yes. Are you coming down to dinner?”

Josiah stiffened. “A man of your stature would dare dine with the unclean? Bad enough you let one sleep under your roof, now you invite the blind to your dinner table! What would the other Pharisees say?”

“You are my kinsman. I vowed long ago to defend you. Why do you think
your father brought you here? As for those of my sect, leave those
hypocrites to me.”

Startled by these outlandish remarks, Josiah couldn’t think of a response. Instead, he whispered his thanks to God for such an uncle.

“Now, then, come down to dinner,” his uncle said.

He shook his head. “It is not right that the unclean should eat with the clean, but it is right for me to pray and fast in hope of salvation. Even if I could accept your kindness and partake of your bread, you forget, I was a shepherd before I was a blind man. It is my nature to earn my keep.”

His uncle laughed. “A smart boy you are, but not a wise one. What have you done to make yourself unclean? You have done no act, nor have you partaken of any food that would by the law make you unclean. In fact, an act of great honor caused the loss of your sight, not an unclean nature. Tradition assumes the blind and the crippled are that way because of something they or their fathers did. I am convinced the Law of Moses says nothing about such people being unclean, but it does say we must care for the weak and the defenseless. I must admit, I do not know any work the blind can do shy of begging, but I will try. That you have such a strong character is good. Perhaps the Lord will look upon you with favor and restore your sight. Remember Job, my child. God tested Job by removing his blessings and when Job was found worthy and true, he had all he lost restored to him, and more.”

This amazed Josiah. “If God does not restore me, I am honor-bound to die. I warn you, some day my honor may well win out over my integrity.”

“Be a righteous man and the Lord will reward you. As for fasting, if it pleases the Lord, well, but fast on the morrow. You have made a long journey so tonight we feast.”

Josiah hesitated, the incredulity of his uncle’s words haunting his soul. His uncle’s colleagues would be scandalized. To allow his uncle to risk everything for a blinded shepherd seemed immoral, but he had already learned it was nearly impossible to go against his uncle, so however reluctantly, he nodded his consent.

The next morning, he began his fast and knelt to pray, but the humiliating dinner the night before distracted him. His cousins initially refused to eat with him. Only the threat of going without supper and being disinherited silenced them. This last threat still shocked Josiah. As serious an offence as inhospitality was, to threaten to disinherit your sons to honor your blind nephew? Did his uncle really have enough gall to leave everything to him?

It must have been the humiliation his cousins would experience if word of such a thing got out that checked them. As soon as their father died, his cousins would seize the inheritance and toss Josiah out into the street to take up permanent residence with the forgotten ones, though he would die before coming to such an end.

He shook his head, disgusted. He was supposed to be praying, not reliving last night’s horror. He tried to focus, but only managed, “Lord, remember your faithful servant. Please don’t leave me like this forever!” He sighed, gave up his prayer, and began to recite the sickness Psalms, thankful his Rabbi insisted he memorize the Psalms.

His dreams were the sweetest torture. In his dreams, he was back home again. Whole once more, he roamed the valleys and the hills, tending his sheep. He could almost feel little Dalli laying over his shoulder. She was well for a change, so he let her down to play with the other lambs on the last day. Then the lion ambushed them, killing Dalli and one of her friends before he could get to them. As bitter tears filled his eyes, guilt clung to him stealthily. His lying brothers tried to reassure him they managed to bring all the sheep in, but that lion wasn’t the only predator in the area. Without the protection of their shepherd, his flock must’ve been decimated.

In the middle of his third psalm, someone knocked on a door in the distance. A youthful female voice shouted, “Shalom, Benjamin. I have returned.”

Returned? His uncle only had the two sons. Who was the girl?

Several minutes later, footsteps echoed nearby, drawing ever closer until they stopped less than two feet or so away. His instincts pulled him to look in their direction, but he resisted that as well as the urge to check to make sure the cloth tied around his head still hid his ruined eyes from the unwanted visitors. He could feel well it did. “I didn’t say you could come in, or does common courtesy no longer apply to me?” Quiet anger echoed in his voice.

The female voice from earlier whispered, “He knows we’re here?”

“Of course, I’m blind, not deaf! I have good ears, a keen sense of smell, and before the lion attack I had excellent eyesight, too. All good shepherds do.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t intend for you to hear that.”

His uncle cleared his throat. “Josiah, I would like you to meet your cousin Rachel, the youngest daughter of Judas Bar-Amos. He sent her to serve here after my Abigail died. Rachel will assist you here and outside the house if you wish to go out. I am a busy man and will not always be here to help you, and of course I cannot expect my sons to be of any use.”

Josiah stiffened. “I don’t need anyone’s help. Now go away, I wish to be alone.”

“All right, Josiah. We’ll leave you for now. Call for us if you want anything.” His uncle’s footsteps retreated. “Come, Rachel.”

“Oh… all right. I’m coming.”

As the footsteps disappeared in the distance, his stomach rumbled.

Ignoring it, he began reciting the healing psalms again, not letting up until he exhausted himself and fell down onto the couch-bed, sleeping like the dead.

To Be Continued….